


lend me some sugar

by queenundisputed



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 19:45:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3180905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenundisputed/pseuds/queenundisputed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian has a spontaneous plan for a romantic dinner with Emma, but that ship sinks when it hits a rather large ice berg in the form of an interrupted kiss between Emma and Elsa. Fortunately, Killian is a strong swimmer, and he knows just how to salvage the remains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lend me some sugar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [letterfromathief](https://archiveofourown.org/users/letterfromathief/gifts).



Killian doesn't knock; he just barges right into the apartment. He knows Emma has the place to herself today, and it was supposed to be a spontaneous, romantic surprise that she couldn't worm her way out of by saying she had to work, spend time with Henry, or deal with policing one of Storybrooke's many villains (namely, Regina). All very valid items on Emma Swan's to-do list, to be sure. He'll give her that, but also very important and skyrocketing to the top of her to-do—literally—list, as far as he's concerned, is her very lonely, very bored boyfriend who has run out of things with which to distract himself.

 

So he swans in—a bit of clever word play was always an inner monologue treat, if he did say so himself—without bothering to knock, calling out, “So, love, I was thinking dinner at Granny’s, and then later—”

 

Emma and Elsa spring apart as though they’ve been burned which must be Emma’s doing seeing as that’s not really Elsa’s forte. The blush that climbs its way up Emma’s neck and into her cheeks is quite fetching, and the way Elsa bites her lip, worries at it with her teeth as she looks anywhere other than at Emma or him, also meets with his approval. He would have to be blind not to notice the appeal of the Queen-of-All-Things-Frozen, and it was something he had, in a roundabout fashion, mentioned to Emma once or twice to what appeared to be her agreement. Clearly he had interpreted _that_ correctly.

 

He rests his gaze on Emma who has hunched her shoulders and shoved her hands into her pockets where he can only assume they are bunched into unhappy little fists of worry and guilt. Completely unnecessary, of course.

 

“As I was saying, dinner?” he asks Emma, and then raising an eyebrow in Elsa’s direction, “Will you be joining us, my lady?”

 

“Killian, I—” Emma starts but stops rather suddenly as the words fail to form the “right” thing to say.

 

“You?” Killian prompts, and then when she fails to respond continues, “We could always stay in if you prefer.”

 

He winks conspiratorially at Elsa who is now outright staring at him, seemingly having forgotten her own guilt and embarrassment.

 

“You are very calm, considering,” Elsa remarks.

 

“Were you interested in ruffling me, darling?” He fails to contain he lascivious smirk, not that he had tried very hard to hide it in the first place.

 

“You’re not...concerned?” Elsa ventures, her head tilting to the side as she attempts to work out his angle. She’s a clever girl, he knows, and she’ll work it out, probably before Emma. Not to say that Emma isn’t also incredibly clever. He knows she’s clever; it’s one of the reasons he loves her. Emma, however, _is_ incredibly slow when it comes to matters of the heart which is why it has taken her this long to find herself alone with the Ice Queen. Given their glacial pace, he’d likely bet a thousand doubloons that the kiss they were sharing prior to his interruption was as chaste as a young maiden’s first kiss with the farmer’s boy up the road. Not that he knew all that much about anything particularly chaste. Perhaps he could inquire as to whether or not the Charmings had anything to share on the topic; they seemed the type.

 

“Now that you mention it, I am, indeed, quite concerned. You see, I am absolutely baffled as to why it has taken both of you so long,” he says, enjoying the look of utter astonishment that Emma gives him, the way her head snaps up with a surprised jerk, and the little ‘o’ that Elsa’s lips form.

 

Then he takes a step back and throws up hand and hook in his own defence because Emma’s hands have left her pockets, and they seem ever so slightly dangerous, as though they might zap him at any moment. Her eyes narrow at him.

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“Emma, I think what the Captain is attempting to say is—” Bless Elsa, truly, for coming to his aid in this time of need, but Emma cuts her off with a jerky hand motion.

 

“Let him say it,” Emma instructs.

 

Translation: she _needs_ to hear him say it. Oh yes, he knows his Swan well indeed.

 

He moves to stand in front of her, brings his hand up to caress her face tenderly, and he says, “Oh love, did you think that I would mind?”

 

“I...yes?” She says it hesitantly, leaning into his touch but fighting not to.

 

He brushes his lips against hers chastely.

 

(Perhaps he does not need to inquire after all. The Charmings are the type, but it takes one to know one.)

 

He turns his head toward Elsa who is watching them with a soft smile on her face. It was a smile she often directed at them during romantic moments, and though he admits that it took him awhile to notice, it did not completely escape his attention.

 

“Will you be joining us?”

 

He feels Emma jerk away from him. “Are you serious?”

 

He sighs. “Yes, Emma, love, I’m serious. Do you have objections that I should know about?”

 

“It’s not...I don’t understand,” she says finally, hands raking through her hair. She looks frantically back and forth between Elsa and him before turning and leaving the room.

 

“I’m not sure you handled that correctly,” Elsa says, her voicing filling the vacuum Emma left behind.

 

“And, pray tell, how would you have handled it differently? I shall bow to your superior wisdom,” Killian replies, his sarcasm softer for Elsa than it is for most anyone else.

 

“I don’t know,” Elsa says, her voice quiet as she moves to stand by his side.

 

“We’ve been building to this for some time now,” he says.

 

“I think you’re right,” Elsa replies, and then she grabs his hand, turning him to face her. She stares at him with such intensity that he’s suddenly very worried.

 

“I think I have a plan,” she says.

 

“I’m listening,” Killian leans towards her, and she whispers to him her marvelous plan. Who knew she was so devious?

 

“I am quite fond of you, you know,” he says when she’s finished elaborating.

 

She smiles at him. “I know.”

 

\---

 

“Are you quite certain we should break this?”

 

“I’m not even certain what _this_ is.”

 

“Actually, neither am I.”

 

“Then perhaps it isn’t the best choice.”

 

“No. This might do in its stead.”

 

“I concur.”

 

Killian and Elsa look at each other, time stops as they hold their breath. It is a suspended moment, the complete calm before the oncoming storm. But then Elsa smiles and Killian loosens his grip on the object they had decided upon, letting it fall to the floor and shatter.

 

He takes Elsa into his arms just as the object hits the floor and presses his lips urgently to hers. There is nothing chaste here. He feels her hands gripping his hair tightly, and he pulls her closer until there isn’t a single space between them, placing his thigh between her legs. She makes a little noise into his mouth, and he’s almost too far gone to hear the little intake of breath that signals that their plan has, indeed, worked, and Emma Swan has returned to the scene of the crime just in time to witness their little indiscretion.

 

Though he is loath to release Elsa, he does, pushing himself away from her and running a hand through his mussed hair as she straightens her dress before turning to face Emma.

 

Killian grins. “Oh dear, whatever shall we do about this mess?”

 

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m pretty sure I hate both of you right now,” Emma says, but her hands are loose by her sides. They are not hiding or dangerous, and this, Killian thinks, is a fantastic sign.

 

“What a shame,” Killian says, “because we rather like you.”

 

Emma throws up her hands in frustration—but they still flutter at her sides after they fall like restless little birds, and he knows in his gut that she’s restraining herself from reaching out and _touching_ —and actually growls at them.

 

“So, what, we’re all just kissing each other now, is that it?”

 

“Well, your Captain thought we might also have dinner, I believe. Isn’t that so, Killian?”

 

“Indeed it is, Elsa. I am so glad that someone pays attention when I talk. I think Emma only ever wanted me for my body,” he says, throwing his head back in faux dramatic anguish.

 

“You poor dear,” Elsa says, deadpan as she pats him on the shoulder in commiseration.

 

Emma’s mouth opens and closes several times as she struggles for words. Ever the diplomat, Elsa intervenes. Emma looks at her, gratitude showing in the relieved slump of her shoulders.

 

“We kissed,” Elsa says, motioning between herself and Emma, “and Killian is more than okay with that fact. And we kissed,” She motions between herself and him this time, “and we’re hoping you are okay with that.”

 

Emma looks at Elsa for a moment, digesting this, and then she turns to Killian looking, he knows, for his confirmation; so he nods his head and smiles at her.

 

“I’m...okay with that, I think,” Emma says, slowly.

 

“There’s no rush, love,” Killian says because he’ll be the first to admit that he and Emma rushed into things a bit at the beginning, and most of that was his fault, really. But there’s time for this, and he’s going to do it right. Make her comfortable; let her know that she’s wanted, no matter what. That she’s safe, with him or with him _and_ Elsa. Or even—though he would fight it tooth and nail because he loves her damn it—just with Elsa.

 

“Take your time, Emma. Really think it through, and if you’re truly okay with this then...” Elsa allows her sentence to trail into nothing so that Emma might finish it.

 

And she does. “We continue this? All three of us together?”

 

“Yes,” Elsa says, smiling at Emma and reaching out a hand. Emma takes it, and Killian grins. That’s more like it!

 

“Now then, I did suggest dinner earlier,” he begins.

 

Emma rolls her eyes. “Why do men always think with their stomachs?”

 

“It isn’t my stomach I’m thinking with, love,” he says with a smirk. “I’ll gladly skip dinner and straight to dessert if you’re willing.”

 

“I just bet you would,” Emma says with a shake of her head. “I think I need dinner tonight.”

 

“I agree,” Elsa says, softly, and Emma squeezes her hand.

 

“Dinner it is!” Killian cries, bowing as he gestures toward the door.

 

“That’s for my superior wisdom, I suspect,” Elsa says, and Killian chuckles. Emma steps forward, her foot crunching against glass.

 

“Yeah, you’re both real wise. Look at this mess,” she says, but she’s grinning back at both of them anyway.

 

“As long as you didn’t get any in your eyes,” Elsa says, looking very worried, and she leans in close to Emma’s face, inspecting her closely. Emma stands very still, allowing Elsa to look, and she isn’t prepared when Elsa strikes, kissing Emma lightly all over her face.

 

“I think you’re fine,” Elsa says in between feather light kisses. Emma laughs, but then she catches Elsa’s mouth with her own, and the laughing stops.

 

“We are never going to get dinner at this rate,” Killian says, watching them both with a fond look in his eye.

 

“Maybe we should stay in after all,” Emma says, pulling away ever so slightly from Elsa.

 

“No,” Elsa replies, softly and pushing Emma’s hair behind her ear, “There will be time enough for this later. We should eat.”

 

Emma smiles ruefully, and she makes her way toward the door with Elsa following. Killian watches them leave, following them only after he realizes he’s been left behind. But they are waiting for him out in the hallway, and the three of them walk to the diner together, with Emma holding Elsa’s hand and Killian’s arm draped over Emma’s shoulders.

**Author's Note:**

> AMBER. I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS. I TOLD YOU I WAS GOING TO GIFT YOU WITH FIC COME HELL OR HIGH WATER. (Although, I dunno if you've been getting my Tumblr asks? Tumblr hates me.) I was so conflicted about what to write, tbh. Captain Swan or Frozen Swan? But then I thought...why not both! So OT3 fic it is! I have my fingers crossed that you enjoy it! Merry random day in January because I am shite at time management and couldn't get this to you at Christmas!! <333
> 
> & thank you to my beta, Shannen, who went through this twice and saved it from run on sentence disease. I'm sorry that revisions allowed for more puns instead of less, Shannen. You may hit me now. <333


End file.
